Freefall
by Roadrunnerz
Summary: Castle and Beckett are trapped in an elevator together right after the end of "The Limey". Three chapter ficlet.
1. Chapter 1

_We all need a freefall to teach us how to fly – R. Lyons_

* * *

" _Castle, do you have second? Can we talk?"_

" _Actually, I don't. Jacinda has the Ferrari double-parked in loading zone."_

The words bounced around in his head and made him want to punch the wall of the elevator he was in. It was a lie. There was no Jacinda and no Ferrari waiting for him in the loading zone at the rear of the 12th Precinct.

" _She doesn't seem like your type."_

What there was instead was a truckload of anger and hurt. He'd wanted her to feel it, too, so he'd hurled some knives at her in the form of words. He was a writer, after all, even though he'd once stupidly thought he might be more than that. Might be considered her partner.

" _She's fun and uncomplicated. I think that's what my life needs right now."_

It was petty and infantile. But worse than that was the fear that his words hadn't cut her at all.

Because she didn't care.

Kate Beckett knew he loved her, but she pretended not to because that way she wouldn't have to deal with it. That way she could keep stringing him along and he'd be there when she needed his crazy theories to spark new life into a murder investigation.

She was a lot of things, his partner; beautifully unpredictable on a good day and wildly infuriating on a bad one, but he'd never, ever. have pegged her for a coward.

How wrong he'd been.

Castle felt the silk lining of his jacket pocket, instinctively aware that something was missing.

 _Fuck._

His phone.

He could have sworn he had it on him a minute ago, when he'd thrown Jacinda into Beckett's face.

The elevator jolted when it reached ground level, bouncing him around a couple of times before the door jerked open. It wasn't the first time it had done that this week. A couple of days ago, he had to wait a few minutes before the door finally opened.

 **Otis. 1962.**

That's what was engraved on the metal template below the buttons, in a vintage font belonging to the same era.

This thing was older than he was. No wonder it was cranky and temperamental.

Castle pressed the button to take him back up to Homicide, hoping that Beckett wasn't there when he got out. That maybe she'd gone for a coffee in the break room or decided to take the stairs down, as she often did.

It was when the door opened that he suddenly noticed an unnatural weight in his _left_ pocket.

His iPhone. Why would it be there? He never put it in the left pocket. How out of sorts had he been lately to do that?

But there it was indeed, in his left jacket pocket, and there was Beckett, standing right outside the elevator landing as soon as the door opened, waiting to step inside.

He got an icy glare instead of a hello. "You forget something, Castle? Or did you come back to show me a photo of some squid ink risotto that you and Jacinda had on your lunch date?"

He was taken aback. Unprepared for the venom in her voice. If he didn't know better, he would have thought she was jealous.

Beckett crossed her arms and waited for him to get out, and when he didn't she stepped inside the elevator anyway, turning her back to him as she pressed the button for the ground level.

"I thought I did," he shot back, into the back of her head. "Forget something that is." He felt for his phone again. "Turns out I was mistaken."

There was no response from her.

He got the cold shoulder. Literally.

The soft, white turtleneck sweater she wore made her shoulders jut out like icicles, behind the cascade of long brown hair that he was facing.

Beckett was standing right in front of him, staring at the door of the elevator in silence, arms crossed, and he was staring at her backside, wondering what it would feel like to run his fingers through that beautiful hair.

 _Don't you do that,_ he chided his foolish brain for that and all the other thoughts he couldn't control. Not with that view.

He shut his eyes.

In a handful of seconds the elevator door would open and she'd storm out.

It couldn't happen soon enough. Five seconds were an unbearable eternity. Maybe for once his mother was right. He had to get away from the 12th until he'd flushed Kate from his system, because being around her was agony.

He opened his eyes again only to see Beckett bounce a little in front of him, as though she'd stepped on a spring.

The elevator jolted and suddenly he was weightless. His feet were airborne as the elevator plunged like an amusement park ride and then violently jerked to a halt.

It couldn't have plunged more than a floor, if that, but those nanoseconds of weightlessness were enough to knock them both off balance and topple them down to the ground like human dominoes.

Fool that he was, his first instinct was to reach for her and break her fall, but she didn't need it. Beckett was back on her feet in an instant and finally turned around to face him.

"What the hell…?"

Meanwhile he was still on his ass, wincing at the pain that was shooting through his knees.

For an instant he thought she was about to hold out her hand to help him up, but then decided against it.

So he got up himself, with considerably less speed and grace than she did.

Castle dusted off his pants and watched Beckett press the ground floor button multiple times, stabbing her index finger into it to no avail. Without hesitation, she then pressed the red-coloured alarm button.

"It was acting up earlier too," he offered lamely.

"You okay in there?" a voice rang through the intercom. Castle recognized it as coming from Officer Dellaventura, the 12th precinct's evening dispatcher.

"Fine," Beckett answered.

"Anything happening when you press the buttons?"

"Nope."

"You in there alone, Detective Beckett?" There was no camera in the aging elevator, but Castle knew that Dellaventura recognized Beckett's voice. There weren't that many female homicide detectives at the 12th.

"Castle's with me."

Castle could've sworn he heard Dellaventura chuckle. "I'm sure he doesn't mind being stuck with you, Detective."

"Are you getting us some help here, _Officer_?" Beckett, who never threw around her rank, lingered on the last word and it was enough to temporarily silence Dellaventura.

"Are either of you in any distress?"

Castle eyed the intercom. _Yes. You have no idea._

"No. We're not."

"In that case I'm gonna follow procedure, Detective. Wait ten minutes to see if it resets and if it doesn't I'll call in a technician."

"How 'bout you call them in now?"

For the first time in days, Castle nodded in agreement with her. "Good idea."

"I'll run it by the captain, Detective."

Beckett released her index finger from the intercom button. "Oh for fuck's sake. That'll take longer than ten minutes." She concentrated on the panel of buttons in front of her as though it were a murder board. As though it were a case that she could solve. And when she realized that she couldn't, she slammed the palm of her hand into the 'door open" button.

The elevator didn't offer so much as a grunt in return.

Castle, on the other hand, made himself comfortable. He slid down against the wall and wondered how it was possible that his day kept getting worse. As if watching a dolled-up Beckett go to a soiree with that James Bond-wannabe draped over her arm wasn't bad enough.

At least this way if the elevator decided to take another dip, his ass was already on the ground. He might not be claustrophobic, but the thought that it could plunge another two stories or so down to the lower level of the underground parking lot did unsettle him a bit.

And of course his overactive imagination went there.

Beckett finally gave up sat down as well, cross-legged and as far away from him as the small space allowed, and because staring at the wall or the door would have been ridiculous, she was forced to face him this time.

Anger.

That's the first thing he saw on her face.

 _That's rich,_ he thought, feeling his own anger rise in response. As if she were the one who'd been duped and strung along for a year. He looked her straight in the eye. "You said you wanted to talk. I guess we have time now."

Hurt. He could see that in her eyes too now, and as angry as he was with her, it gnawed at his insides. He wasn't good at hurting her, and he was okay with that. Earlier outburst aside, it wasn't something he ever wanted to be good at, no matter how much she'd hurt him.

"Is that what that I have to do to talk to you these days? Trap you in an elevator?"

"Are you saying this is your doing then? I'm flattered."

She shot him a look of disbelief. "Don't you have to call your date and tell her you're running late?"

 _Date?_ Castle suddenly remembered his lie. Jacinda double-parked in the loading zone.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and sent a text to his daughter. _Can you grab some fettucine on your way home? The fresh-made ones from Gourmet Garage._

He waited for a reply. Saw that Beckett was watching him.

His phone buzzed.

 _-Can't, Dad. Studying at the library 'til late tonight. Ask grandma?_

 _-No worries._

He put the phone back in his pocket. "Guess she'll take the Ferrari for a spin without me."

"The poor thing."

"You said you wanted to talk," he reiterated. Irritation rising again. Maybe it was the fact that she couldn't run this time that spurred him on, because he suddenly itched for a confrontation. One that she wouldn't be able to flee from.

Beckett ran a hand through her hair and stood back up. "Doesn't matter anymore," she mumbled and then jabbed her finger back into the intercom. "Dellaventura! Tell me you called a technician."

"Yes, Detective," the officer's voice answered instantly. "ETA is thirty to forty minutes."

"Seriously?" Beckett groaned. "Forty minutes?" Then she paced and gave the console another whack for good measure.

"Why don't you sit down?" Castle suggested. "We're stuck here whether we like it or not. You have somewhere you need to be?"

She made no move to sit down. "Maybe I do."

"A few drinks with Scotland Yard before you drop him off at the airport?"

"That's right," she shot back, latching onto the provocation. "What's it to you?"

"Nothing," he mumbled. "Do what you want in your spare time."

"At least I leave my dates in my spare time. I don't drive up to crime scenes with them."

"Says the woman who used to kiss her police detective boyfriend at the precinct. I didn't realize getting a ride up to the yellow tape was a crime."

Irritation made her pace faster. "What is _wrong_ with you lately? It's like I don't know you anymore."

"Is _that_ what you wanted to talk about?" He got back up as well, needing to be on equal terms in this fight. The elevator suddenly became a boxing ring. "My dating life?"

"I…uh, no." She was inexplicably flustered. "Yes."

"What business is it of yours? You've made it clear that you and I are nothing more than work partners."

"I did _what_?"

She had such a convincing look of shock on her face that Castle almost wanted to applaud her acting skills.

"What are you talking about, Castle?"

She really was going to make him spell it out. Unbelievable. "I was there. When you interrogated Bobby and told him you remembered everything from the day you got shot. _Everything_."

Her eyes widened into a different kind of shock. "You where there?"

"I was there," he confirmed. "You know that I love you. You've known for a _year_. But you'd rather pretend that I didn't."

Colour was draining from her face and she was at least two shades paler than a minute ago. "What…?"

"I thought that when we talked at the swings all those months ago…that it meant something different, and that's my mistake. I can't expect you to feel something that you don't, Kate. I can accept that you don't feel the same way. I can accept that being with the funniest kid in class isn't enough. But, after everything we've gone through together, I did expect you to be honest with me. To not play me for a fool…"

She shook her head, vehemently, "Oh God, Castle, no. That is not what…"

Beckett didn't finish her sentence because suddenly the lights flickered and then they went out altogether, plunging them into darkness. A second later the sound of something snapping ripped through the air, as though a whip had cracked down onto the ceiling above them.

The old elevator shook violently and then it began another freefall.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Part Two**_

In the instant that the lights went out and the ground disappeared underneath her feet, Kate Beckett thought she'd finally stopped cheating death.

This was it. She was going to die.

She was going to die and Castle, that big idiot, would never know that he couldn't have been more wrong in his assumption that she didn't love him. And that thought was even more unbearable than the knowledge that she was done for.

She was thrown hard against the railing inside the elevator, its metal edge cutting through the palm of her hand when she tried to brace herself, and then her body fell backward, toppling over like a rag doll when the entire cabin crashed to a noisy halt.

Her shoulder blade radiated with pain and a plume of dust made her cough.

It also made her realize that they'd stopped plummeting and that they weren't dead. Not yet anyway.

She was lying on her back on the floor of the elevator, or so she thought, because it was next to impossible to tell which way was up in the total darkness. She couldn't even see the outline of the hand she was holding up in front of her face.

She heard Castle groaning next to her which sent a fresh jolt of adrenaline through her system and made her cop instincts kick in.

"Castle?" She pushed herself up onto her knees. "You okay?"

"Beckett?"

The sound of his voice was to the right of her and she groped for him in the darkness, relieved when her fingers touched his shirt. She fisted the fabric in her hand and pulled herself closer to him, cursing when she bumped her head into the wall of the elevator. "Castle?"

"I'm okay," he mumbled and she could feel his body moving, groping in the darkness just as she was doing. "My ass was a great cushion." Beckett found his hand and led it towards the wall, allowing him to sit up against it. "You?"

"Yeah…" Her heart was starting to race. Panicking in the suffocating darkness. She hadn't been able to sleep at night without leaving a light on since getting shot.

She never had panic attacks before getting shot. But now she sometimes did and they were randomly triggered by stupid, silly things. Like noises in her apartment.

And darkness.

Sometimes they made her hide in her locked, brightly-lit, bathroom. And sometimes they made her drink too much in an effort to calm her nerves.

"Beckett?" Castle calling her name cut through her panic. Their tumble seemed to have sucked all of the accusatory anger and sarcasm out of his voice.

"I'm fine," she reassured him. She was fine, physically. The plunge had been more terrifying than damaging. Kind of like being tossed onto a mat during a sparring match. Minus the mat.

"You think we crashed down as far as we can go?"

"I sure hope so."

"Think someone realized what happened?"

The noise of the elevator crash had been deafening. Surely someone must have heard it. "They must have…" Beckett tried to in vain to stop her heart from racing. To focus on their situation at hand. The elevator cabin was obviously unstable and they had to get out of here. And Castle…as long as he was at the 12th, shadowing her, it was her responsibility to keep him in one piece.

 _Start thinking like a cop, not a scared little girl._

But it was so impossibly dark and that made it so hard to get air into her lungs.

Beckett pushed herself off the floor, testing her limbs. It was hard to tell which way was up. "I'll try to reach Dellaventura." She groped along the wall with shaking hands, searching for the panel of buttons. The entire cabin shook a little when she moved.

 _Fuck._

She needed light. Desperately.

After one side yielded no buttons, she searched the next one. Her ragged breathing echoed through her ears.

"Beckett-" Castle's voice sounded far away.

And then suddenly a sliver of light illuminated the elevator.

Beckett turned around to see Castle's shadowy outline holding up his iPhone and pointing it in her direction.

"Over there," he told her, pointing to the button panel to her right.

Their phones. Of course. Why the hell didn't she think of that?

 _You're too busy panicking to think straight._

Beckett pulled her phone out of her pocket too and opened the screen, illuminating the panel of buttons on the wall. She pressed the alarm button but there was no response. No beep and no static to indicate it was still connected to the dispatcher.

Beckett dialled the number of the 12th on her phone but it disconnected before the call went through.

"Fuck!" her shaky hands almost tossed the phone against the slanted wall of the broken elevator. But then a small remnant of sanity reminded her that it was doubling as a flashlight.

"Hey…" She felt Castle's hand on her arm. "Kate. Don't."

She bit her lip and fought to control her erratic breathing.

 _Kate._ It had been days – weeks – since he'd called her by her first name.

"Kate," he was still holding on to her, steadying her. "You sure you're okay? You're hyperventilating."

"I'm not."

"You are." She felt his hand on her back. "Put your head down. It'll help, especially since I don't have a paper bag to give you."

She gritted her teeth but did as he told her to. Remembered what Burke told her to do when the panic grabbed a hold of her. "Castle-"

She felt his thumb move up to her shoulder blade in a soothing rhythm. "Hey…it's all right. Lots of people are claustrophobic."

"I'm not."

"No?"

"No."

"Then what…?"

"It's…it _was_ the dark. But I'm fine now." It was the truth. The light from the phones was already slowing her racing heart.

Although his touch was helping too.

"The dark?" Castle seemed genuinely puzzled. "You're afraid of the dark?"

She didn't blame him for being surprised. Because she wasn't the person he thought he knew. Not anymore.

"I am now," she confessed. It was time, she realized. To tell him the truth, before he made more crazy assumptions.

She could see his neck bob. Heard him swallow. "I see."

"I never used to be, but now…now I sleep with a light on, because if I hear some weird popping noise down in below in the street and if it wakes me up and it's dark…then it makes me panic. Like, full-on panic-attack panic." Her eyes watered, embarrassed by her own admission. She never imagined telling him this. "I didn't know how to handle them when they first happened. Vodka was one of my initial solutions." She met his eyes. Ashamed. She'd come close to turning into her father. "It wasn't a good one. I'm getting better at handling them now. Controlling them in healthier ways."

"Kate-"

"I was such a mess after I got shot," the words poured out of her, impossible to stop once she'd taken the leap. "I was so scared, all the time. I didn't want you to see me like that. How could we start something good if all I could think about was putting one foot in front of the other? I needed to be more than that."

She dabbed at a tear with her index finger, before it had the chance to tumble down her cheek. "I've been seeing a therapist ever since I got shot, and I think it's helping. I'm not where I want to be yet, but I'm getting there."

"I didn't know…"

She didn't expect him to look at her the way he did just then. As if she were still remarkable, even though it was so painfully obvious that she wasn't.

His earlier words rang through her head and they broke her heart all over again.

 _I can accept that being with the funniest kid in class isn't enough._

"Castle-"

If by some chance they were going to end up dying in this cursed elevator today, she had to make him realize that he couldn't be more wrong. Had to get it through his thick skull. "I don't know what I did to make you think the things you do. I pretended that I didn't remember what you said because I couldn't deal with it. I couldn't handle everything that came with it, not because you're not enough, Rick. It was never that and I need you to know that."

Out of nowhere his hand reached for hers and it warmed her cold skin.

"I've been an idiot."

The massive weight that fell from her shoulders was all it took for another determined teardrop to escape against her will. She wiped it away with her bleeding hand. "Yeah…you have."

His blue eyes lit up at the unexpected rebuke, but then they crinkled in amusement and that made her smile too.

Maybe they stood a chance after all.

"You know, if that offer to have a talk is still…"

The ringing of a cellphone cut him off and made Beckett jump. She squeezed his hand so hard she was afraid she might've broken something.

"Sorry," she mumbled and let go.

It was Castle's phone. Of course his phone had reception down here while hers didn't. Did millionaires have different phone plans than the rest of humanity?

Castle held the phone up against his ear. "Dellaventura? 'Bout damn time, oh…Gates. Yes, Sir. I'm fine…she's fine too. No one else in here. That's right. Let me hand the phone over to her." Castle made a silent "Oops" with his lips and handed Beckett his cell pone. "Your boss."

Beckett told Gates what happened, explained that they were both fine but eager to get out.

"Gates said fire services are already in the building," Beckett told him. "She told us to get away from the elevator door 'cause they're gonna try to jam it open."

"I was hoping they'd rappel from the ceiling and we'd have to spelunk out of here."

"Missed opportunity for sure." He sounded like her partner again and, that made her feel a little giddy. Silly even. In spite of their circumstances. "She also said to sit down on, hang tight and try not to shake the elevator cabin."

"Sit down and do nothing. I can handle that."

Beckett noticed a thin-red line above his eyebrow when the light of Castle's phone shone into his face. "You're hurt." She reached for the cut and probed it with her finger, trying to see how deep it was.

"Ouch," he jerked back. "Don't do that."

"Does it hurt?"

"It didn't until you did that."

She moved her hand from his face, breaking contact and making him regret his words. "Sorry."

This time he was the one who reached for her, pointing to a stain on her white-wool turtle-neck. "You're bleeding too," he noted with a frown. "Where?"

She noticed the stains all over her sweater. "Damn it. I must've brushed the palm of my hand against it. I'm never gonna get these out of a white sweater."

"Lemme see…" He'd already reached for her hand, needing to inspect the cut on her palm.

Beckett groaned. "We're a mess. Jacinda is not gonna be impressed when you finally show up for that date."

His frown deepened. "Kate, do you seriously…"

A loud knock thundered throughout the metal cabin and cut him off mid-sentence. Steel against steel.

Voices came from the other side asking once again if they were okay. Firefighters letting them know they were about to start prying the door open.

It didn't take long for the screech of metal against metal to give them a visual of a crowbar peeking through the top of the sliding door. When it was opened wide enough to fit a person, both Beckett and Castle slowly got up and watched as a man stabilized it with a metal rod and slinked into the half open cabin, his helmet light blinding them both.

It was only when he came in that they realized they'd plunged below the lowest floor and would have to be hoisted up to crawl through the top half of the semi-open door. The bottom half opened up to a cement wall.

Beckett gave Castle a push and, in spite of his protest, she made sure he got out first. He was her responsibility after all.

And whether or not he still felt the same way, she loved him.

The rescuer inside the cabin hoisted Castle up, while another one pulled him from the other side.

Then Beckett followed the same way in order to crawl up outside into the parking garage.

A pair of paramedics were waiting for them on the other side, and so was Gates, who was as happy to see Castle as she'd ever been. When she saw Beckett's surprised expression, Gates explained that she wasn't about to have a civilian death at the precinct. Not on her watch.

"Her concern is touching," Castle mumbled afterwards, from a chair besides hers, where a paramedic was already applying a butterfly stitch on the cut above his eyebrow. Watching him get patched up made Beckett wince more than the antiseptic that a fellow paramedic was dabbing on her own hand.

Beckett then gave a statement to a beat cop and when it was all over, they took the stairs back up to the main floor of the precinct.

After that the rescuers slowly dispersed and the handful of cops who were still at the precinct gave them high-fives and hugs at first, and then grief, for being the two assholes who'd force them to take the stairs for the next few weeks. Because that's what cops did.

Beckett had slipped out of her blood-stained turtleneck, exhausted and cold now that the adrenaline had worn off. She hadn't seen Castle since he went to dust himself off in the men's room.

But now he was back in her line of vision, slipping his phone into the pocket of his wrinkled jacket. He held a bottle of water in one of his hands and handed it to her. "I haven't seen you drink anything yet."

She took it gratefully and bit the inside of her dry mouth. He always noticed everything and meanwhile she could be so damn oblivious where he was concerned. For days on end she'd missed the world of hurt he was in.

"Thanks."

"I was thinking," he said, sounding oddly nervous. "If you're up for talking some more, I'd like to buy you a drink. One that doesn't come in a plastic bottle."

The offer took her by surprise. "Don't you have a date?"

"Seriously, Beckett?"

"You don't?"

"No. I don't. Not with Jacinda anyway. Also, that was a yes or no question."

She didn't understand the frustration in his voice, but she nodded. There was more to say and more to ask. And she didn't want to go home alone after what happened tonight. Not yet. "Okay, yes. _Yes_."

"Come on." He took her hand in his. Leading them out of the precinct and into the cold autumn air of Manhattan.

* * *

 **A/N** : I know this wasn't the most technically accurate description of an elevator incident but I hope you'll allow me a bit of creative license for the story's sake.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part Three**

Kate Beckett prided herself on knowing a lot more hidden gems, and even more hidden dives, than the average New Yorker did, but she was beginning to accept that her knowledge of the city's best kept secrets paled next to Castle's.

Like this tiny, boutique hotel, on East 81st, near York St, sandwiched between a brownstone and a dry cleaner. Beckett did know about the hotel. However, even she didn't know that there was a gorgeous, hidden bar in the basement. One that looked like it belonged in the 1940's, full of dark wood panels, thick Persian rugs and generously cushioned grandfather-chairs that she wanted to curl into.

She caught Castle discretely slipping the maitre d' a bill, a gesture that made the man move a "reserved" sign from a table near the fireplace and casually place it onto the one next to it.

"Voila, Monsieur," the maitre d' pointed to the table next to the fireplace.

"Smooth," Beckett pointed out.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Uh huh," Beckett rubbed her hands together over the fireplace. It's why he'd wanted this table even though it wasn't his to take, she realized. He saw her shivering while waiting for his Lyft ride, because she'd ditched her blood-stained wool sweater and only wore a t-shirt under her jean jacket. Bruised, dusty and casual – they were both underdressed for this place but Beckett guessed that after Castle's little bribe no one would care.

Even so, she had a sudden urge to make a dash to the washroom and at least make sure her hair wasn't a tangled mess after their elevator drama.

"I need to make a stop in the ladies' room first," she told Castle.

Castle's eyes followed her as she walked to the end of the long bar, before turning right and out of his sight. He let his gaze linger on the spot where she turned and sank into one of the plush chairs, exhausted and exhilarated all at once.

Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined that this was where he'd end up tonight. Here, at one of his favourite spots in Manhattan. With Kate.

Not after he'd watched her dance with that…British agent, and then thrown Jacinda in her face and got a look that could kill, before almost, literally, plummeting to his death in a pre-historic elevator.

Goosebumps lined his arm at the thought of it all. Especially at the memory of the icy glare that Beckett had given him earlier.

He also thought about her unexpected confession when they were trapped. _"How could we start something good if all I could think about was putting one foot in front of the other? I needed to be more than that."_

"Hey-" Beckett came back and curled her long, slim body into the chair across from him, instinctively making him want to move his chair closer to hers. It took genuine willpower not to do it. Such was the pull she had on him.

"Have you checked out these bathrooms?"

"Not the women's, no."

She rolled her eyes and it gave him an excuse to stare, to finally give himself permission to really look at her again, something he hadn't done in days. The flames from the fireplace place bathed her in a warm, glowing light and he could swear she'd never been more beautiful than right now at this very moment. No matter how many Nikki Heat books he wrote, he'd always fail at putting into words the countless emotions that coursed through him each time he looked at her.

"If you had, you'd know they're unisex."

"I do. I was testing you."

"Right." She snickered and that felt good too. To banter with her again.

A bow-tied waiter approached them so stealthily that Castle hadn't noticed him until he was hovering right over his head. "Mr. Castle, can I offer you both something to drink?"

He turned to Beckett. "Kate?"

"I'll have a glass of red," she eyed the waiter. "Something robust, Italian. I'll leave it up to you."

"Scotch on the rocks for me," Castle ordered and just like that, the waiter disappeared as quickly as quickly he'd appeared. "You hungry?"

"Yeah…come to think of it. Starving actually."

It was the answer he'd hoped for.

So when their drinks came they pored over the menu and ordered food. Lots of it. Comfort food, because it's what they both craved after their latest brush with death. A Quebec-style meat pie and a warm loaf of bread with salted butter and olives. A plate of asparagus and roasted root vegetables with a side bowl of bearnaise sauce to dip them in.

They ate it slowly over small talk and it wasn't until their second round of drinks that he worked up the nerve to go back to their conversation in the elevator. Much as he dreaded it, and as much as wanted the rest of the evening to go one exactly like this, because all of it was pretty damn perfect, he couldn't let it end where it did. They were far too good at this; at leaving things unsaid.

"Kate, tonight…in the elevator, you said you needed to be something more, in order for us-" God, this was so hard, because he still wasn't sure where he stood now. Because the possibility that they'd already missed their chance wasn't something he wanted to consider. "To start something."

Beckett's tongue pushed an olive pit out between her lips and her thumb and index fingers grabbed it and flicked it into the small bowl, next to the bigger one full of black and green olives. There was something ridiculously sexy about the way she did it.

He made a mental note to order olives again. If by some stroke of luck there was a second dinner with her in his future.

Beckett looked at him, surprised at the change of topic. "Yes."

"Do you still want that? For us to start something."

Terror widened her pupils and he suddenly wanted to take back the question. Braced himself for the unbearable answer.

"I, uh…"

"Kate, if you don't-"

"I do." It was a whisper, nearly drowned out by crackling embers of the fireplace, but he heard it. As loud and clear as if she'd shouted if from the rooftop.

"You do?"

"Yes," she said it with more certainty this time, biting her bottom lip to stop it from trembling. Once the fear left her gaze her lips rose into a smile that matched his own and for a second he thought she might even be flirting with him. Amused by his reaction.

"Me too."

"Yeah? You do?"

"Yeah."

Castle did push his chair closer to hers now, because it was impossible not to bridge the gap between them. Tried to tamp down his giddy happiness when took one of her hands in his. "You said something else too, that you needed to be more."

"Yes."

"I think…what you're doing. Going to therapy, trying to deal with what happened to you, it's brave, Kate."

"I haven't felt very brave lately."

"It's not east to ask for help. It takes more strength than most of us have."

She shrugged.

"I don't need some fearless kickass-warrior-cop, Beckett, you know that right? You've always been enough."

She squeezed his hand too. "I know. I really do…but I'm so bad at this. At trust and relationships. I had so many walls up. I was buried in my mother's case…and as much as I told you that I wanted Josh around more, it was a lie. I think I fell for him because I knew I could always have one foot out the door of our relationship and that I could keep him at arm's length. I know I can't do that with you."

"True."

"And then on top of all that, I got shot and…" She winced. "I was a terrible patient. If I'd let you into my life then, it would have been over before it started."

"You keep thinking that I'm so easy to push away. That'd I'd give up on us so easily."

"I don't want to push you away, Rick," she admitted. "I wanted to be better than that, to be in a place where I was ready to accept everything that happened that day at the cemetery. _Everything_. But I'm also sorry…that I lied about not remembering. That you found out the way you did. I should have noticed that things changed between us after that case. It was so obvious but I never put two and two together. Some detective, huh?"

"I should have confronted you about it," he confessed. If she was apologizing, he needed to as well. He'd been such an ass to her lately. "Talked to you instead of assuming the worst, and trying to punish you by flaunting my dates in front of your face."

"Dates?" She raised her brows. "There are others? Besides Jacinda?"

"Did I say dates?"

"You did. Dates. With an s. Plural."

"No, no…" It was there again, the hurt in her eyes and he hated himself for putting it there. Beckett had never intended to hurt him, but he _did_ and that tore at his gut. "Even Jacinda and I, we had lunch and dinner, and that's it. There's no me and Jacinda."

"Okay." She accepted the explanation but he could see she wasn't convinced.

"I even lied about her being double-parked in the loading dock. It was Alexis whom I texted in the elevator."

"Really?" She chuckled this time. "You kill me, Castle."

"I'm sorry. I wanted to hurt you because, the idea that you didn't know how to tell me you didn't love me back hurt like hell. Because I wanted it so bad. It was childish and I regret it."

"I shouldn't have lied. It was cowardly."

"You were recovering…"

"No excuse," she cut him off. "I was selfish. Scared. To be honest, I was starting to wonder whether you meant it. If maybe I waited too long or maybe you only said it because you thought I was dying…"

 _What?_

Castle stared at her in stunned disbelief and then moved his chair even closer. She couldn't' possibly think that, could she? "You're not dying now, Kate, right?"

"Uhm, no…hope not."

"I love you."

There it was again the same mix of shock and terror in her gorgeous eyes. "Castle, I…"

"You don't have to say it back. Not until you're ready or until you mean it," he reassured her. "But I want you to know that what I said wasn't some ploy to try and keep your heart beating when you were lying on that grass with a bullet in your chest. I mean it. I love you. A lot."

"Okay…" the shock of his announcement faded from her expression and he could see other things in her eyes too. Joy. Relief.

"You said you're almost where you want to be, but not yet."

"I want to be but…" She fisted her hands, frustrated with herself but he didn't give her the chance to wallow in it. Twisted his thumb along her palm and broke through her fist with it.

"Until you are, maybe we could be friends again. Partners."

"I'd like that."

"Maybe I could even take you out for a movie this weekend."

She looked happy now and that emboldened him and gave him all sorts of crazy hope. Maybe they could get there together.

"Yeah…I'd like that too."

"Quantum Legacy 4?"

"Now you're pushing it."

"It's only Tuesday. I have three days to convince you."

"Good luck with that."

Once again, the waiter appeared out of nowhere, cleared their empty plates and discretely asked if they wanted another round of drinks.

After the food and the two rounds they already had, exhaustion had come at them hard and fast and they both declined. Castle asked for the bill and in spite of getting some resistance, he successfully managed to pay for everything.

He'd been so used to letting her take the lead, he'd forgotten that outside the precinct, he needed to step up and be her equal. It wasn't fair to make her break down all the walls from inside, he could rip out a few bricks from the other side as well and help her speed up the process.

He'd gotten this far because of his persistence and it's what she needed now, to know that he wasn't giving up on them. Not the passive-aggressive jealousy he'd thrown her way instead.

The rain slowed down their ride home, but he didn't mind because after they crossed 69th, Beckett leaned on his shoulder and closed her eyes, making his heart swell, to the point where he feared it might burst out of his chest.

 _What a way to die,_ he thought. _Having your most vital organ self-combust in a Lyft._

When they arrived at her loft, Castle gave her a nudge but Beckett's eyes were already back open and she gave him a sleepy smile.

"Will you wait for a minute?" Castle asked the driver.

"Don't be silly. It's pouring," Beckett told him. "Stay in the car."

But he was already halfway out the door. Tonight had been too wonderful, had felt too much like a date, for him to stay in the car like a sack of potatoes and end it with a wave out the window.

He wasn't fast enough to open the door for her, but he did grab her hand and lead her out of the car before they both made a sprint for the small awning outside her building. The only thing it was good for was keeping them from getting completely soaked. The drops that the wind blew in sideways still fell on their jackets.

But he was oblivious to the rain, focusing on her face instead and the way a wet piece of hair stuck to her forehead. "Until tomorrow, Beckett."

She smirked. "Good night, Castle."

He was about to turn back to the car when her fingers hooked into the sleeve of his jacket and tugged him back towards her, with enough force that there was no mistaking it was intentional. An unexpectedly sly smile was the last thing he saw before her arms snaked around his neck and she raised herself onto her tip toes to level her lips with his.

Soft, warm skin contrasted with the ice-cold drops of water falling on his cheeks and sent all his sensations into overdrive.

She was kissing him and he hesitated only for a nanosecond until his body responded and he kissed her back and revelled in the sweetness of tasting her.

Taking her lead, he pulled her in closer and that gave her the chance to relax and let go and explore a little deeper and show him how much she wanted this. She was as hungry for him as he was for her and that sent a shiver of delight coursing through his body. Tongues and teeth collided in a slow clash of desire and then her hands slowly moved to cup his jaw while they were still kissing. Tender and proprietary all at once.

Kate Beckett was claiming him and he was happy to surrender.

Her mouth lingered on his swollen bottom lip before she finally let go with a contented smile, her breathing hot and heavy. Enough so that he allowed the palm of his hand to slide under her shirt and hold her close for another minute, to feel the rise and fall of her chest against him.

It took all of his willpower not to press her against the brick wall and do it all over again. To not take her upstairs and show her exactly how much he wanted her.

But he was going to do this at her pace. Even if it killed him. Because he loved her even more than he wanted her.

Beckett's bandaged hand was splayed against his chest and she exhaled, resting her forehead on him before she turned up to meet his gaze and take a step back. "You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that."

"I can relate."

His mouth was still on fire.

All of it was so natural. The feel of her body against his. His skin on hers. The way she let go of herself when they kissed. When they finally got there, it would be amazing and it would last. He had no doubts anymore.

Nor did he think it would take very long. Not after tonight.

Judging from the joy she radiated, neither did she. "Good night, Castle."

It definitely was. Best night in a long time.

He watched her head inside the apartment, past the lobby concierge and into the elevator.

The sight of the sliding doors made him grin. It was an elevator that brought them here tonight. Sunk them to new depths and brought them to new heights.

Castle stepped back out into the rain and the smile was still on his face when he whispered a quiet thank you to the now-deceased Otis.

 _We'll try to make some new memories in your replacement. Promise._

* * *

 **A/N** : Giant thank you hug once again to WRTRD for proofreading this story!


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